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Chapter Twenty-Five
Sunrise breaks with cool air and morning mist. Awake and rubbing my eyes, I marvel at the thick whiteness of the fog. It drifts lazily amidst the tree trunks taking on a life of its own. A few hundred yards to the east, the boyfriend splashes in the river while I don my boots. Our rest is insufficient, but it's all we can spare. I explore my bruised ribs tenderly before easing back into my armor. With the faceplate shattered, my killsuit has lost most of its functionality. It'll still stop an arrow or deflect a blade, but I'll need to get a sword soon or go weaponless.
Surprised at how stiff I am, I proceed toward the banks of the Firehole. As I approach Angelaria's laugh sounds from somewhere up ahead. The two of them are talking about me, so I halt in my tracks to have a gander at what they're saying.
"You love him...don't you?" Talen asks her.
"How can you NOT love him? He's dashing, tall, and--"
"Very good looking," Talen says.
"Yeah," Angelaria replies. "Especially when he's naked. Gods I wonder what it's like to lick him from head to foot."
"It's awesome, actually," Talen says. "His sweat is delicious."
They both giggle while I blush. Then Talen speaks. "He's the best friend I've ever had. I guess I should be thankful for that. Have you ever had a best friend? I mean...before you met us?"
There's more sloshing in the river. "Not really. I've traveled a lot, probably since I was about thirteen."
"The world's a dangerous place for someone so young."
"Oh believe me, I wrote the book on that. Talen..."I hear a pause and imagine Angelaria's confused expression as she flounders for words, "I have a request, and it's a little difficult to share with you."
"What is it?"
"I want to have Kian's baby. I want him to plant one inside me, but I also want you to be a part of it."
"How so?"
"I want you to be there when he, you know, fucks me. I want you to hold my hand while he's sweating and thrusting into my pussy."
"Let me think on that, okay?"
"Of course," she says. Another awkward pause follows. "You're so lucky."
"How so?"
"Think about this: how many people actually get to be fucked by their best friend?"
"It IS rather cool," Talen agrees. "Everyone that sees us together is instantly jealous. I don't think Kian realizes how handsome he is. When other guys find out how big Kian's dick is they hate me. Honestly, it's funny as hell. Every single one of them wants to use his shoulders as a foot rest."
"Oh he knows," she states.
More silence; then Talen speaks up again. "What do you think of Pink Hair? Is he any good?"
"He's an illusionist." She says with a note of derision."
"Gotcha," Talen replies. "Second-rate stuff, right?"
At that point, I decide to stop eavesdropping. I walk forward with a heavy foot in order to alert them of my approach. "Mind if I join you guys?" I ask when they come into view.
"Come on in," Angelaria says playfully.
Oh my. I didn't expect them to be skinny dipping.
"The water in the shallows is lukewarm. Out in the deeper end...well...it'll make your scrotum shrink into your body like a tortoise in its shell," Talen says.
I grin and get to undressing. Then, I slip into the water.
Angelaria's right, it's warm near the bank. I dip my head and when I pop back up, my hair's slippery and wet. Talen swims over to me and hands me a bar of soap. I wash out my blond locks, which are a few inches long now. Then Talen hands me a straight razor and mirror.
"This is almost perfect," Angelaria sighs, "but, it could be warmer...much warmer. I'm afraid to get that close to one of the geysers, however."
I agree. Getting boiled alive doesn't sound pleasant at all.
When done we dry off, get dressed, and then eat the last of the food in our packs. Normally, I'd be concerned about this, but the abundance of fish and game that I've seen the last couple of days makes me think my hesitations are unwarranted.
I pack my towel away and pick up my stuff. Back at our camp, Correldon and Pink Hair are waiting for us. The silver-haired elf makes no mention of our fight. Just as good I suppose; at least this way we set out through the fog as friends. Talisac plods along near my right shoulder. He says nothing, but I know he resents having his hands tied.
I've always liked hiking in the fog, and the mountains make the experience that much better. As we move through the trees, the mist slowly burns off. But while it lasts it serves to create an almost supernatural hush over everything.
Noon.
The mist now gone; everything dazzles in its brightness.
The top of a grand meadow affords a view strewn with flowers of every hue. Purple, red, and yellow spread like an artist's palette before our feet. Far to the west lays a road that looks to follow the edge of the mountain. Correldon points it out and says, "That'll take us to a settlement where we can rid ourselves of this prisoner."
"What's the matter, elf?" Talisac asks. "Is it possible I remind you of someone in your past?"
Correldon's mouth hangs open a moment, and I can tell he has things to say, yet he says nothing.
So mister perfect has a skeleton or two in his closet; I wonder what it is.
An hour later, we move to within sight of a line of trees about a thousand or so feet below our present position. The trees are just the beginning of a large forest of oak, aspen, spruce and white pine. With every step we draw closer, and they take on the appearance of looming soldiers standing forever at attention. They literally tower over my smallness with trunks six or more feet in diameter. Each is smothered in moss; their roots disappear in a choking bramble of weed grass.
Under their heavily-laden boughs the sunlight breaks through in only mottled golden motes; the shadows under these great trees are cool and soothing to my exposed skin. A clear mountain stream bubbles nearby; like all the rest in this valley, it teems with trout. We make camp for the night close to its bank and use the remaining sunlight to round up a few meals of fish.
I suppose "we" is used liberally here because it doesn't include me. No...Talen's far better suited for that work. I'm best used as a scout and spy, so I slink off to do just that. After all, a stretch of foreign woods is just too vast a temptation to ignore. On my way out of camp, I come across many a patch of wild mushrooms and spot several huge toadstools flourishing in the darkness which is so plentiful here on the ground. I hope Talen finds them and picks some because I love mushrooms. I make a mental note that I need to train him properly on things I like.
Once away from the others, I creep and hop quietly about, capering like a field mouse on the lookout for all things shiny. Every sense is my guide. Here amidst the knee-high grass, my ears and my nose are more useful than my vision. The forest is very much alive, and I'm part of that. My skin pricks in glorious fascination with each strange noise. And my eyes (not to be outdone) make what I can see more vibrant and extraordinary by the second.
On the shore of a skinny river, I cross by scaling a limb that stretches nearly its entire breadth, and then leap the remaining distance to the far bank. Mud splashes up about my ankles. I pause to drink from the icy current and splash my face through my open visor.
I walk with purpose because something inside urges me so. In front of me, a shadow detaches from the surrounding black and rears its familiar head.
Gazing upon the familiar wolf with the yellow eyes, I say, "'Allo old friend."
Its follow-up gaze, however, turns the blood in my veins to ice water.
Has it come to warn me of something?
Those amber eyes are like jewels; they glow with almost a ghostly light. Its white teeth shine like ivory needles in its maw. Although I've seen my "friend" before, I can't help but be surprised by the sheer immensity of its ethereal body. Even as it leaps onto the path, its fur bristles. It climbs up an enshrouded knoll and disappears into a copse of raspberry bushes. I follow, carefully holding my hand out in front of me to ward away the thorns.
A flicker of black; deeper I go. Perhaps my journey to the center of these woods is metaphoric as I'm also looking for the center of myself. As the branches grow thicker around me, I crawl forward with caution, my glossy boots making little or no sound on the leaves beneath my body. I part my mouth hesitating ever so slightly.
"Why are you stalking me?" I ask the wolf, but I don't think he hears me. I set my jaw and quicken my pace. Before long, I'm led to a place that feels ancient even in the shadows of these mammoth trees that have stood here since time memorial. Here the wolf pauses on a moss-covered hillock. When I join it, the great beast turns its head. Slowly, I reach for its fur with only three fingers of my left hand.
The savage wolf turns on me suddenly; I recoil in fear. But it doesn't attack. It sniffs at me in the way that most dogs sniff men, pawing at my legs and biting at my codpiece with his teeth. What he finds there must please him because he wags his tail. I reach down to pop it off for him, but in the next instant the wolf walks to the brink of a cliff that edges a hollows of sorts. So I keep my cup in place.
"You want me to look, don't you?" I ask.
The wolf nods.
In the center, overgrown with razorvine and kudzu, is an old keep with cracked stone walls and broken windows. Is this thing abandoned? I wonder.
It sure looks it. However, a trail of gray smoke rising from a diagonal crack in the roof tells me otherwise. From somewhere inside, rise angry voices. Soon, a few armored men emerge at the front, longswords swaying from their belts. Their black skin is covered in familiar red paint.
Kuanni! I've to tell the others.
I try to leave, but something seizes me from inside. I hold my breath and drop to my knees, carefully searching the trees that dim with the approach of night. A gust of wind precedes the flapping of immense wings; a breeze pushes against my face. From out of the sky appears an enormous creature; fully one-hundred feet in length, it crests the tree tops and descends toward the kuanni. This thing has four legs wrapped in green scales, its wings are filled with veins spider- webbed against tight verdant skin, and a long serpentine neck ends in a reptilian head crowned by fierce-looking horns.
Its claws gleam whiter than pearls, and an elegant yet sinewy tail extends from its hindquarters. It turns its head slightly to behold the kuanni gathered on the steps before the ancient fortress.
"Bring me that ogre magi before I tear this place apart." Its voice is filled with power, yet includes an almost musical quality. The kuanni genuflect, vanish, and a moment later emerge with the giant, red-skinned ogre-magi in tow. To my surprise, he prostrates himself before this creature, which can only be a dragon.
"My lord, it is a pleasure as always to bask in the presence of your company," he says.
"A pleasure that should not be taken lightly, Havrok," the dragon states. "I'm here because of your failure to secure the village of Rendla Fee. You were instructed to seize and occupy the village by now. It's a simple task but one that you seem incapable of accomplishing! I need control soon for Kahket's forces are making their way through the abandoned mines of Cithek Ingol even as we speak."
"I understand, your grace. But we ran into a vast company of elven knights led by the silver- haired one who seeks to color the oceans of the world with kuanni blood."
Steam bellows from a pair of flared reptilian nostrils. "I see," the dragon says, its voice a low rumble, "the champion of Symardiearre. Nevertheless, we must act swiftly. Rendla Fee should be secured within three days. If this champion is traveling with a host of elven knights, I'll search them out. And when I find them, I'll burn them to ashes. THIS despite the magical bow he wields. How many did you say were in this host?"
"Easily twenty or more; I killed ten myself!"
A carefully concealed lie, I realize, but one that works in my favor.
"Then this is my command to you, ogre-magi. And you'd be wise to heed my words. I'll root this scourge out in the hills above the forest. You'll proceed west to Rendla Fee and once there you're to secure the small village. I care not if you kill every last one of them. But the exit to the mines must be secured. The host sent by Kahket and captained by Tyrian, a blue dragon in human form, will be arriving soon. I don't want the mines sealed. A properly placed explosive could bring down the mountain and seal the mines, trapping those inside. If this happens, I'll blame you personally. This invasion force is set to deliver the lands from here to the sea unto me as per my contract with Tyrian and Kahket. This undertaking is extremely important to me, Havrok. If you're incapable of performing this simple task that I set before you, then let me know so I can free you of the burden. Am I understood?".
"It is understood," the ogre-magi says, lowering his red head to the ground.
The dragon roars then with a voice like a thunderclap and sends a withering blast of green poisonous fog from its lungs into the air directly above the trees. To my amazement, birds and animals by the hundred drop dead from out of the branches. Leaves wither on their limbs. The massive creature opens its wings and takes to the air. With supernatural grace, it leaps upward to shine like an emerald statuette. Inside the hollows the ogre-magi quakes in his boots, eyes to the sky. But when I look again the dragon is gone.
Ten kuanni emerge and the ogre magi furiously casts his arms about, shouting to them in a language which I can't understand. The feeling with me earlier--the one that seized my guts and forced me to pause at the edge of the hollows--now fades. Carefully, I push myself away from the edge and scramble to my feet. My knees, boots, and gloves are caked in mud. More remarkably, however, the black wolf strides over to lick me clean. It's extremely friendly, but when I reach out with my hand to touch its fur, the beast shies away.
When it's finished, the wolf regards me with eyes that hint at something else lurking there, and I realize it's only one aspect of Tethyr. My god has many faces.
"I love you, my lord," I whisper.
The wolf nods to me, turns, and bounds over a copse of thick gooseberry plants. When I go to follow, I realize he's gone.
Gloom as gray as ash settles in-between the trunks that surround me. I walk along, rubbing my arms, alert to how fast the temperature is dropping. When it seems I might be hopelessly lost, I hear the river again, and I make my way toward the sound, pushing through tangled forest floor and doing my best to avoid pitfalls and snags.
I can't be far from camp...maybe only a mile or so.
I turn my chin upward and gaze straight through the canopy above; twinkling stars stare straight back at me. I set my jaw, take hold of the nearest tree trunk, and start to climb. As I exert myself, I think of how hungry I am, how loose my armor feels, and how much fat I've lost. That damned larva has got to have descended some by now. I pause to wipe my gauntlets on my cloak, but they're sticky with sap. My magical boots allow me to cling to the bark like a spider would cling to a wall or crawl across a ceiling.
At long last, I push my head through the needles, and I'm able to see the whole horizon for miles around. The mighty pine I picked isn't the tallest in the forest but it does well enough: I'm able to spot a gray plume of smoke rising (it's more than likely our campsite). It's also close. Satisfied that I've got my bearings now, I descend to the ground leaping from branch to branch like a monkey. At fifteen or so feet above the ground, I jump and land like a cat on the soft earth. Hundreds of needles snap and break; it's the first real noise my feet have made in a long time.
Once I make it to the river, I spend half an hour looking for a place to cross. Then I run the rest of the way back to camp mulling over thoughts of the black wolf.
If he represents an aspect of my god, then what aspect exactly?
Perhaps he's just a symbol, meant to remind me of something inside that I've ignored too long...an animalistic instinct that's as ferocious as the killing beast that haunts my dreams.
Or maybe he's a leader looking for his pack, and I'm the first male he's invited.
I hear the sound of rushing water; it's distant and faint.
The first creek that I came across that afternoon appears.
I quicken my step and pull myself free of the underbrush with boots lined in earthy mud. I find the creek to be a lot larger than I remembered and it looks deep. I'm already cold and don't relish the idea of getting wet. My night eyes pick out a timber bridge that crosses from one side to the other. Only a hundred or so feet south of me, I close the distance with fleeting footsteps. The log's so large that I can sprint across it with few precautions. I turn north yet again and soon spot a fire glowing yellow like the wolf's eyes. I strut toward the clearing, cognizant of Talen's voice above the others.
"If he doesn't come back in another hour, I'm going to look for him," he says. The others seem to agree, though Correldon has already picked me out in the gloom. He lifts his bow casually and then sets it aside once he verifies who I am.
I walk directly into the clearing.
"Kian," Angelaria begins, "where'd you run off to. You had Talen and I worried."
"Pink Hair as well is worried," the gnome says. "But...no longer."
I smile but say nothing.
"Did you take a dip in the mud?" Talen prods. "You're filthy."
The scent of fresh beans and meat emerging from a pot on the ground next to Pink Hair's feet makes my stomach ache. He hands me a bowl and I snatch it hungrily, ignoring whatever Talisac wants to say.
I'm eating this, worm be damned.
"It's a stew," Pink Hair explains. "The rest of us ate our share; it's got some rabbit meat in it. Very tasty."
I spoon it out with a dry piece of crusty bread that softens in the gravy.
Tethyr's teeth this tastes good.
"I think I'll take first watch," Pink Hair declares. "That'll give me some time to clean the pots in the stream and to study some of my books by the fire."
I shake my head. "We can't have a fire. We need to put it out."
"Why?" the three of them ask.
"T-this evening...I saw something. I think it was a dragon. And the kuanni...they've a stronghold not far from here in a hollows. I saw the ogre-magi that busted me good in the ribs...he was there and called the dragon his master or lord or something like that. He's supposed to be in charge of some kind of mission. That's what I gather at least; it includes taking control or possibly assaulting a village called Rendla Fee so they can occupy an exit to some dwarven mine. He told them about you Cory," I say, "your reputation precedes you. The dragon said that it'd search the hills for a band of elves, which is probably our only advantage: the fact that Havrok lied about us to save face. I think we should put the fire out and take our chances with the night."
Correldon tightens his grip on the haft of his bow. "If the kuanni are that close, they may have already picked up on the campsite and may send some of their own to investigate. The village you speak of, Rendla Fee, it lays only half a day's journey from here along the foothills of these same mountains. You're correct. There's an entrance to the dwarven halls of Cithek Ingol. But they've not been used in many centuries. It's a place where the dwellers of the deep mined beautiful cibrian steel and a wonderful yellow metal that the dwarves call 'ymeldur' because of its ability to absorb magic. But when the veins of both these precious metals exhausted, the mines closed and are now haunts for other things worse than the grimlocks. Why then are they interested in getting hold of the village?"
"Kahket," I say as if that one word explained everything. "She's a sorceress I thought we escaped. She's bringing an army through, and it's led by a blue dragon general named Tyrian-"
"Tyriankeldazriax..." Angelaria murmurs. "It's his draconic name. I had the pleasure of being whipped by him while that slavering demon Ravidan was in the room with Kahket...waiting for you to wake up so you could impregnate her."
"That was never going to happen," I say, recalling with awful clarity the exchange we had.
"Well, she didn't know that. I don't think any man has ever refused her."
I smile at her and say, "The green dragon seemed to have concerns with regard to a cave-in. But he also thought the risk worth the reward."
"A few well-placed explosives and boom," Pink Hair blurts out.
Correldon scratches his chin; then speaks. "The dwarves always build their mines well; they're easily defensible. Entrances on both sides of the Icewall Mountains have the capacity to be brought down quickly in the event of invasion. Each hall comes with such precautions or an engineer is not worth his salt."
"How much time before Kahket arrives?" Talen asks.
I shrug my shoulders. "I'm not sure. I didn't hear any of that. It can't be long...maybe three days? That number kept cropping up in conversation."
Talen looks worried.
"All right," Pink Hair interrupts. "What're we going to do about it? I for one am no lover of kuanni, but neither am I so concerned with human matters that I discount my own love for self- preservation."
Talen nods in agreement. "He's right. We can't get ourselves completely caught up in this. Kian, Angelaria, and I are on a quest for the Isle of the Unslaking Thirst. If we go tromping off toward Rendla Fee we risk getting involved with the kuanni to a greater extent than I'm willing to risk right now. And if they're going to capture the village, we might find ourselves in the same fire that the grimlocks stoked for us. It just sounds dangerous."
Talisac laughs. "A fire doesn't wait FOR HIM," the smelly man says with a gesture toward me me. "If you refused her, she'll want you all the more. Only this time, she'll get her way."
"Then she'll be disappointed," I say.
"You can't refuse her. Not with that thing in your head."
I swallow uncomfortably.
"What's he talking about?" Talen asks, growing anxious in the aftermath of Talisac's remark.
I shake my head. "It's nothing."
"It isn't nothing," Talen presses. "Did something happen to you when you were a prisoner? Something I don't know about?"
"He was speaking figuratively, WEREN'T you, Talisac?" I state.
The doctor sneers and licks his lips. "Of course. I was talking about lust. I hear she has drugs that can ply a man of even IRON WILL to ravage her between the legs."
Angelaria sighs. "Lust aside then, I'm with Talen. I think we should warn the village that this is going to happen. Give the people a little time to escape and to spread word to the lowland city states. That way if they want to get involved, they can."
"You humans are curious creatures," Correldon remarks. "You're rescued from the grimlocks and yet are unwilling to help others who risk a similar imprisonment by evil forces that might be worse than those that originally captured you."
"It's not that we're unappreciative," I say. "But we don't really want to get caught up in this private crusade that you seem to have with the kuanni. Don't you understand? I couldn't do anything against the ogre-magi back there. He nearly crushed my chest. Only you with your black arrow and your magic bow stand a chance. But what if the kuanni arrive in a force so large that defeat is certain? Will your magical arrows save us or do we die for YOUR cause?"
Suddenly, Correldon turns his gaze to the forest.
As if on cue, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. He strings his bow quickly.
I search the trees but see nothing. Blast...I hate that my visor is broken. It's quiet, but I know Cory's hearing something so faint that even my Atlantean ears cannot detect it.
Pink Hair and Talen kick dirt on the fire. Soon the flames in our camp are extinguished and smoke billows upward through smoldering earth. At least, there's no light. A snap sounds in the woods and the air around us fills with the whistling of arrows. Jumping back, I see the air flicker briefly around my head. Arrows drop broken into splinters in a semi-circle around us. Everyone's face is riddled with shock except for one: Angelaria is there, hands blazing, and the ring on her finger glows in magical fire.
"Split up!" I yell. It takes a moment for me to realize she saved our lives by stopping the arrows with an invisible shield. But I don't know how long the spell's magic can last.
Talen doesn't need any encouragement.
My boyfriend disappears into the darkness. Good. I creep into the shadows away from the center of the camp. I hope my movement's partially obscured by the smoke and darkness. Behind me, Pink Hair coughs miserably and runs toward the tents.
There's another snap followed by a hiss. I instinctively roll forward and an arrow thuds into a tree trunk directly behind me. Gazing into the woods, I still can't see anything. But I hear several footsteps moving over the forest floor. Then there's the sound of leaves being moved aside and the notching of another arrow.
I creep forward on all fours, holding my body parallel with the ground, my muscles easing into the lightness of my agile form. There he is: a kuanni scout. He steps forward lightly, looking for me, arrow at the ready. It's hard to close the distance between us because he has night eyes, but I manage to do it anyway. When within kicking distance, I sweep his legs out from under him, and he falls into the bush with a loud whomp. Leaping to my feet, I avoid his next arrow. The kuanni rolls away and stands with his sword unsheathed and dripping poison. The first swing misses; I snap about and grip his head in the crook of my knee. In the next second, I fall and snap his neck with my weight.
Off to the next.
Another scout ambushes me from the murky shadows under a pine tree's lower branches, and he's brandishing a crooked knife at my back. I drop my head low and aim my boot upward and stick him under the chin, spikes unleashing into his jawbone. He cries out dropping the blade. I've completely broken his charge, and I kick his bleeding face away from my left boot. Madly, he unsheathes his sword, yet another that glistens with poison in the moonlight. He swings it at me; I leap up and slam my foot down on the flat, deflecting it into the earth and almost snapping it in half. What survives is now horribly warped and useless. The kuanni shouts curses at me; I kick him twice (both times in the side) and he falls twitching into the soft forest soil with so many ribs broken it's lucky he's still alive.
My lethal arms and legs shake with adrenaline. I slip into the shadows deep and move like the assassin I am, carefully sketching out a path through the bracken which grows all around our campsite. I surprise two more of the kuanni who've tossed bows into the brush and choose to face me with their long elegant swords. The one on my left anticipates my move, but I feint and strike his companion with my foot. My strong blow fragments his thigh bone causing him to tipple onto the whirling blade of his companion. The other kuanni, shocked, lets his sword go and is clearly distraught at the grotesque steel protruding from his brother's throat.
Now it's just he and I.
The kuanni steps into a rigid form of unarmed combat. He attacks, feinting to one side to punch me in the breastplate. I know the counter and fall back while raising my foot into his groin. The scout doubles up in pain and falls down, throwing up his dinner all over my other boot. Two more kuanni, drawn to the sound of our combat, emerge from the forest and attack me with swords. I strike at the first one, pivoting my body back in a snap and dropping below the blade. I hit him square in the chest with anger strengthening my punch. His heart throbs, I can feel it beating as sure as if my own blood courses through its ventricles. He falls back, gasping for air, and manages to catch a hold of the moss on a tree to his immediate right. His fingers are ended in long nails, much like a cat's claws, and his feverish grasp tears free chunks of lichen. The second kuanni takes advantage of my momentary disorientation and strikes me in the right arm with his blade; this one cuts through my armor! Pain sears my flesh like a burn from a hot oven. Cramps cripple me. I collapse and the fire engulfs my nerves. A lather breaks out on my face and hands, my muscles tighten, and I find myself completely immobilized. My vision blurs and soon everything around me goes black as tar.
I shall post Chapter 26 next week. What do you think will happen to Kian? Does he die here? Send me an email, and we'll discuss it together.